


Semi-Cadence

by dragongirlG



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bucky Barnes's Trigger Words, Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort Bingo Round 10, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, Memory Suppressing Machine | The Chair (Marvel), Mental Breakdown, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Podfic Welcome, Psychological Torture, Stucky Bingo 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:28:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21501568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragongirlG/pseuds/dragongirlG
Summary: Bucky wakes up strapped into the Chair with an unfamiliar man taunting him with the Winter Soldier trigger phrases from the red book. When the man tries to get Bucky to say the last trigger phrase with him, Bucky refuses—only for the man to turn the Chair on and turn Bucky into the Winter Soldier anyway. Bucky breaks out of his conditioning with the help of Natasha Romanoff and reunites with Steve, who asks him to come back to New York.A Captain America: Civil War canon divergence in which Zemo finds Bucky before trying to bomb the UN. Double-fill for Stucky Bingo 2019 (square: "Natasha Romanoff") and Hurt/Comfort Bingo Round 10 (square: "nervous breakdown").
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 18
Kudos: 80
Collections: Hurt/Comfort Bingo - Round 10, Stucky Bingo 2019





	Semi-Cadence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_genderman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_genderman/gifts).



> Partially inspired by a prompt from the_genderman: "Ok, so this was a dream I woke up partway through, and I don't know how/if it would work in canon, but it was like canon divergent CA:CW; Zemo had found Bucky without the whole bomb-the-un deal and had managed to immobilize him somehow and was taunting him with the trigger words and was trying to force Bucky say the last word himself."

Bucky wakes up strapped into a chair.

He swallows his terrified gasp, eyes darting around as he tries to assess his surroundings. A bright, cold light shines directly at his face, blinding him and limiting his peripheral vision. Insulated cuffs lock his forehead and limbs into place against padded leather, and when he tries to jerk forward, he can barely move a millimeter. Extra restraints wrap around his metal arm, occasionally emitting small shocks that keep the arm from functioning. The air around him is cold and damp.

The situation is all too familiar, and Bucky digs his nails into his flesh palm, grounding himself with long, slow breaths. The last thing he remembers is going to the market in Bucharest, where he'd been holing up on the top floor of an abandoned apartment building. He's wearing his street clothes, which is a good sign, and he still has all his memories—including those of Steve. If he is dealing with HYDRA, the techs haven't been ordered to wipe him yet. If he's not dealing with HYDRA, then he has better odds of getting out. No one knows his weaknesses like HYDRA does.

Movement flickers behind the light. Bucky braces himself as he calls, "Hello?"

A man emerges from the shadows. Bucky squints, trying to distinguish the man's backlit features, but all he can really make out is a silhouette of a stocky frame.

" _Soldat_ ," says the man.

Bucky barely manages to suppress his flinch. "That's not my name."

There's a beat of silence. "What is your name then?" The man has a faint Eastern European accent—possibly Ukrainian or Sokovian, Bucky can't exactly tell.

"None of your business," says Bucky flatly. "What the hell do you want?"

The man holds up a book.

Bucky frowns at it. "What is that?"

"You do not recognize it?" The man sounds thoughtful. "I suppose that's not a surprise." He withdraws back into the shadows, and that's when Bucky makes out that the cover of the book is red—and there's a black star engraved onto its center.

Bucky's heart jumps to his throat. "No. Don't. _Please_."

"So you do know it, then." The man hums. "Tell me something. Would you willingly complete a mission for me?"

"What's the mission?" Bucky asks through gritted teeth.

"To kill the Avengers," says the man. "Specifically, Captain America."

Bucky swallows hard. If he says yes—if he lets the man believe he'll do it—then the man will release him, and then Bucky can overpower and incapacitate him and run far, far away from here.

Bucky takes a deep breath and lets it out. "I would do it."

"Well," says the man, sounding surprised. "I'm glad to hear it. You won't mind if I give myself a little insurance?"

"Insurance?" Bucky echoes, his heart pounding.

The man hums and flips open the red book, pausing to meet Bucky's gaze. And then he says: " _Zhelaniye."_

"No!" Bucky's breath comes short and fast. "Stop. Stop—I said I'd do it—"

_"Rzhavvy."_

"Please, no," Bucky pleads. He can feel the haze starting to settle in, and he squeezes his eyes shut, wishing he had something to plug his ears with. He'd knock himself out if he could, but the restraints don't let him move his head.

The man continues relentlessly, _"Semnadtsat’. Rassvet."_

Bucky desperately sucks in a breath and screams at the top of his lungs, hoping to drown out the man's voice, but the hateful words still reach his ears. _"Pech'. Devyat'."_

"Stop—" Bucky's chest heaves with panicked breaths as he desperately tries to wet his sore throat. "Please—"

 _"Dobroserdechnyy,"_ the man recites.

A high-pitched ringing starts in his ears. "Stop—no, no, _nyet_ —"

" _Vozvrashcheniye na rodinu."_

" _Nyet, pozhaluysta,_ please—" In his mouth is the coppery taste of blood; he's bitten his lip almost clean through.

_"Odin."_

Bucky braces himself for the last phrase, almost ripping the leather armrests of the chair with his grip, but all that greets him is a mocking silence.

He cautiously opens his eyes.

The man is leaning over him now, studying Bucky like a bug under a microscope. He looks young, maybe thirty, though the shadows make it hard to tell. His gaze reminds Bucky of Zola's, and Bucky trembles under it, cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck.

"I want you to say the last code with me, _Soldat_ ," says the man softly. He's standing so close that Bucky can smell the coffee on his breath.

"No," Bucky rasps.

"Come now, _Soldat_. Don't you want some choice in this matter?"

Bucky bares his teeth at the sheer gall of the question, briefly fantasizing about ripping the man's throat out like a rabid tiger. "You're not giving me a fucking choice," he snarls. He spits in the man's face, but his mouth is so dry that only a few flecks land on the man's chin.

The man grimaces and steps back, wiping his face with his sleeve. "I expected better of you, _Soldat._ "

"That's not my name," Bucky growls, and suddenly a wild animalistic terror overtakes him. He throws what little weight he can against the restraints, making the chair shake. His heart drums up an accelerated beat that pulses through his blood. "Let me out of here! I said I'd do your goddamn mission! Let me out!"

The man steps out of view. Bucky howls, fruitlessly struggling in his restraints as tears gather in the corners of his eyes. "Please," he whimpers, "let me out, let me out—please—"

 _"Gruzovoy vagon,"_ the man calls from a distance.

Bucky screams in rage and waits—and then he laughs hysterically: it didn't work. He still has some semblance of control, and he's regaining more and more clarity with each passing second.

"Fuck you," he spits, and then a lightning-hot pain jolts his whole body, crackling from his arm to his chest to his skull—

* * *

The Soldier wakes in the chair to a cacophonous commotion: the curses and groans of fighting, the roars of mechanical combat suits, one deep, familiar voice calling out orders. A spotlight sits across from him, not illuminated but still blocking a great deal of his vision. A redheaded woman emerges from behind it, stepping up next to the chair and manually undoing the Soldier's restraints. "Natalia," the Soldier whispers, the name a wispy, half-formed thought that drifts away into the air, but nonetheless she freezes, the slightest tremor in her hands as she finishes her task.

"Do you know your name, _Soldat_?" she asks.

The Soldier's throat closes up at the question, and he struggles for air as the world spins around him. He should know—he should _know,_ but how can he, this is a trick question his handlers constantly test him with—but he has a name, he's sure of it—

Natalia's hand settles on top of his flesh one. "Calm now, _Soldat_. Match your breaths to mine," she says, and she repeats the instructions in Russian, tilting her head so she can meet his gaze. It helps a little, focusing on the green of her eyes, the rhythm of her breathing, the warmth of her callused skin.

When he finally feels like his heart has stopped trying to escape from his chest, he says, "My name. Please." He's not exactly sure what he's asking, but he knows that it's important.

Natalia nods and leans in close. She smells like smoke and blood. "Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. Steve calls you Bucky."

The dam breaks.

Bucky gasps, his memories returning in a deluge. Natasha Romanoff takes both of his hands, squeezing them as shudders wrack his frame. Bucky chokes, "I almost—"

"But you didn't," says Natasha firmly. "You fought as hard as you could. We saw the footage."

Nausea rises in Bucky's throat. _Footage?_

Natasha says quietly, "We destroyed it. All of it, plus the book. It's gone now, burned." She kicks at the ashes on the floor.

"Everything HYDRA put in me is still there," Bucky says, swallowing down bile. "Ten little phrases and anyone can make me theirs."

Natasha gives him a grim look. "I know. Everything the Red Room taught me is still there, too. But—there are ways to manage these things, Barnes, until a permanent solution can be reached." She smiles wryly at the look on Bucky's face. "Not _that_ kind of permanent solution. I meant more of a neuropsychological one."

"Does that exist?" Bucky asks, voice ragged. He forcefully quashes the seed of hope sparking in his heart.

"Not yet, but it will." Natasha gives him a once-over, her gaze assessing. "Can you stand?"

Bucky nods, slowly levering himself out of the hated chair. He's in an old HYDRA base—that's been obvious from the beginning—but he recognizes the particular arrangement of shelves and desks, the outdated equipment pushed against the walls. It's the one in Poland, abandoned in the late 1980's after Poland began transitioning from a Communist to democratic government.

"Who was he?" he asks Natasha. "The man with the book."

Natasha sighs as she leads him out of the base. "Helmut Zemo, leader of a Sokovian paramilitary death squad. His family died when the Avengers fought Ultron in Sokovia. He's been planning his revenge against us ever since, and he thought you were the perfect tool to carry it out."

Bucky has so many more questions—Where did Zemo get the red book? How did he know where to find Bucky?—but then he and Natasha are stepping into the sunlight, and Steve is there, nearly vibrating out of his skin. "Bucky," says Steve, his voice and posture all Captain America. "Widow."

"Captain. I'll prep the jet." Natasha gives him a small smile and quietly slips away.

"Steve," says Bucky with a nod, licking his lips nervously.

Steve clears his throat. "Zemo's in CIA custody now. He'll be brought to justice for what he's done."

"Who's taking me into custody?" Bucky asks curiously. He thinks longingly of his little apartment in Bucharest, the go-bag filled with journals hidden underneath the floorboard. He'll have a better shot of getting those back if he's with the Avengers instead of the CIA or some other alphabet agency.

"Well," says Steve, straightening his shoulders, "we're going back to headquarters in New York to debrief and strategize. Do you want to come with us?"

Bucky gives him an incredulous look. "You're giving me a choice?"

"Yeah," says Steve softly. "You've had enough choices taken from you, Buck. Especially today. If you…if you want to us to go without you, we will. We'll fly off and let you disappear into the wind—even help you—and I—um, we—will stop chasing you. But if you come with us, we can help you. Protect you."

Bucky exhales, long and slow. The thought of being trapped on a jet with a team of superheroes with advanced technology and enhanced powers makes his skin crawl. He's only been free from HYDRA for a couple of years.

But has he ever really been free? The code words HYDRA used to condition him—who knows how many more of those are floating around, buried deep into his subconscious until someone activates them at the right moment? How many more times can he be turned into the Soldier against his will? How long can he run and hide before exhaustion—or HYDRA—or both catch up to him?

"Buck?" Steve is valiantly trying to hide the longing in his expression. It makes Bucky's heart ache.

Bucky clears his throat, swallowing hard. His flesh hand is shaking. "Could we stop by Bucharest? There's something there I need."

"Yeah," Steve breathes, "We could do that."

"Okay," says Bucky, taking a step forward. "I'll go with you. And your team."

Hope lights up Steve's face like the sun. "Thank you, Buck." His hands twitch at his sides, and Bucky sighs and opens his arms tentatively.

"Come here, punk."

Steve wastes no time in accepting the hug, his breath hitching on a sob as he settles his chin on Bucky's shoulder and lightly wraps his arms around Bucky's waist. "I missed you, Buck."

"Missed you too, Steve," Bucky murmurs. "Now come on, show me your fancy new digs and introduce me to your friends. I've got so much to catch up on."

Steve lets out a choked laugh, sniffling once and swiping at his eyes before leading Bucky to the Quinjet.

**Author's Note:**

> A semi-cadence, or half cadence, is a Western musical term that describes a musical phrase that ends with unresolved harmonic tension. There is more information on wikipedia [here](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cadence).
> 
> Comments, kudos, and transformative works are always welcome. Please let me know what you think. I thrive on comments especially. 
> 
> [Reblog on Tumblr](https://dragongirlg-fics.tumblr.com/post/189199737558/semi-cadence)
> 
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